A long time ago there was an enchanted woman. Because she wasn’t the best person, the wind cast a spell on her “from now on everything will fascinate you”, had told her the old element, “you won’t also be able to stop and of the permanent movement you will be prisoner”.And that’s how it was, wherever she went, whatever she saw and did, everything swelled her with wonder, being always very difficult leaving that place to the successive others where she also wanted to be. Sometimes she asked “please, let me stay a little longer!”, but a spell it’s a spell and there she was, leaving an half swept floor, the bowls little or not at all full from the landscape where she had passed by, the half built house, a line on a paper or a unsettled colour.As in any magic, everything seemed veiled. A curtain was replacing the space and in it was projected the life around. It was through that wavy plan that the woman acknowledged that world. But the wind was very careful with the enchantment stories, so, to be certain that the woman wouldn’t forget what she had lost, from time to time, moved the curtain. A blow was enough and the reality was in front of the woman eyes without spells or enchantments. It was then when she took great decisions. She protected and defended herself with teeth and conviction. But soon the curtain was back to its place, fixed, and everything was enchanted again. Once more the woman stayed in her numbness state, floating, without touching, molding herself. She didn’t choose where to go; she wandered about and took infinite directions in a continuous whirl. Shewasn’table to define herself. Who am I? Which should be my place? Where to go? Stuck in her eternal walking, the woman started to disappear and only her own shadow remained.The others, she weaved them. Firstly from her long dress and after, when she no longer had body, waited for the sunset, when the shadows were bigger and from their dark drawing unraveled people and people and more people. Among all, there was only a real man. How was he? Nobody knew.Because everything was so fast, she looked for the entrance, passed through the skin, the muscles, the flesh, the blood, the cells… but when she thought she was arriving, she was called to other bodies. For this reason the woman didn’t know anyone entirely. Someone’s hand, another one’s chest, a hip or a foot…The real man hadn’t got an entrance. He lived inside stone boxes. They were very beautiful but distant. Nothing made them move and the men kept himself inside. Sometimes he got out and allowed to be touched and without being seen, the real man and the shadow woman overlapped and drew one only outline, so dense that got volume and became, finally, the body.